


Five Times Gary Makes An Oasis Cover And One Time He Doesn't

by TheBlackWook



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: 5 Times + 1 One, M/M, New Tags Will Come as the Story Goes On, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 20:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackWook/pseuds/TheBlackWook
Summary: or five times when Jamie walks in on Gary playing an Oasis song on the guitar and humming along to it and he has a different reaction each time.





	Five Times Gary Makes An Oasis Cover And One Time He Doesn't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MamaBearF1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaBearF1/gifts).



> This story was born because there were far too few fics on here making Gary play the guitar and that truly is a shame. I have needs, the thirst is real !
> 
> And my recent Carraville partner in crime, Viki, obviously encouraged me to write it and gave me great inputs and additions to the lay-out of this story. I'm incredibly grateful and I dedicate this story to her. Thank you, boo, and enjoy !
> 
> I hope you'll all like this little thing here !

Abandoned corridors in giant building complex are always a piece of mystery to Jamie. Go down and you find the gym where Jamie spends most of his time after the set and the dressing rooms. Further down and the atmosphere is bustling with people running, technicians moving furniture and materials to and from the set. And yet, with the numerous people working here, he still marvels of the little quiet pieces of it, left peaceful in-between the chaos that is a television studio. They’re like a secret in plain sight.

Just like that part of the fourth floor. 

Jamie doesn’t know why but it is abandoned most of the times. There might be one or two offices near the elevator but then, not much of an activity would be recorded here. 

He likes it. 

He often goes there to have a moment alone. It had been his heaven when he had first began – he was _not_ nervous, just inexperienced, thank you very much – but it soon became a place when he decided to unwind whenever Neville – _Neville !_ – was being too much of a pain. And unsurprisingly, it tended to happen quite a lot.  


Jamie is always being reasonable, of course he is. It’s all this Manc bastard’s fault. Always stubborn, always opinionated, always arguing. He simply never – _ever_ – shuts up and it’s exhausting. Compared to him, even listening to all the buffoons of the government doesn’t seem so bad. Well, maybe not, they truly are morons and Neville actually have some common sense and decency. But still, it gets the point across. 

_(Stevie once joked he was being too harsh on the Manc._  


_“Pity him, mate. Not everybody is lucky to be born a Scouser.”_  


_He had huffed in response and simply took another sip of his beer.)_

He simply walks along a corridor, looking at some of the opened rooms where all he can see is a jumble of everything and nothing at all. Here, some old suits and costumes and… Was that a turkey onesie ? There, old furniture, cameras and boxes with spare parts of… whatever this could be. Sometimes, some of the rooms were neatly arranged in drawers and shelves full of files that he assumed were some sort of archives. Sometimes, the room resembled a battlefield, having been stuffed in a patchwork of objects, never to be touched again. 

He is not nervous, and Neville hasn’t even said anything even remotely irritating today.

_(He’s actually all right in small doses. And he was kind of nice when he began.)_

To be fair, he has not seen him in a while. Better he annoys someone else than him. 

So he simply walks, surrounding himself with the peace and quiet of the floor, and he explores the place once again. He almost knows it by heart now : that little spot on the right where the paint is fading, this door which has some drawing pin on it for some reason, or even that light over there that keeps on blinking, the only noise disrupting the silence.

Not today, though. Today, it seems he isn’t the only one roaming around. 

It’s really faint at first, from the far end of the floor – he barely goes there himself – but he hears it anyway and he is intrigued. Getting closer, he makes out the sound : guitar chords. More steps and he can hear a soft humming along. 

It is nice. He can soon make out the unmistakable melody of Oasis’ hit _Wonderwall_. He wasn’t aware of any musician here at Sky but, at the same time, so many people worked there that he might as well don’t even know who is playing right now.

Sometimes, it feels like the voice – a man’s voice - is familiar but it is so faint he can barely add a face to the sound. He’s curious of course. That man sounds good with a guitar and he wants to know who he is. Who knows, they could actually become friends and he could enjoy mini concerts like this, right ? 

So he takes a peak. 

It’s a black-haired man but his face is cast downward, looking at his fingers. If only he could turn his head slightly, Jamie might try to see if he recognises him.  
He takes another peak. 

“ _Neville ?!_ ” He lets out before he can stop himself, standing in the doorframe of the room.

Gary Neville suddenly stops playing and jumps from an old-looking chair, letting out an ungodly high-pitched cry that would have been able to wake up even the most stubborn sleepers. 

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Carragher ?” He asks – shouts is more like it. 

“Could ask you the same question !”

They argue for a good five minutes, not conceding anything to the other, until Jamie smiles sarcastically. “But, honestly. Wonderwall, really ? That is so basic of you, Gary.”

He actually has nothing against the song. But the opportunity to annoy Neville is too tempting not to seize it when it comes to him. 

Gary scoffs. “Basic. Well, I wouldn’t expect a dirty Scouse like you to have any taste in music, so no surprises here.”

He puts his guitar back into its bag and storms off from the room, leaving Jamie alone. 

Later that day, when he is back home and enjoying some telly with a beer, he can’t help thinking of the image of Gary Neville playing the guitar and humming along to an Oasis song. He makes a disgusted face before dismissing the thought immediately. He saw enough of him at work not to see him in his mind as well.


End file.
